


Nobody is As Powerful as We Make Them Out To Be

by Pastelbluesky



Series: The Different Kinds of Human [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Autistic Arthur Morgan, Bisexual Arthur Morgan, Bisexual Dutch van der Linde, Bisexual Hosea Matthews, Bisexual Male Character, But only if you squint, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jewish Hosea, Jewish Hosea Matthews, Just Different, M/M, Mutant Powers, There's some not nice stuff in the beginning so be prepared, Trans Arthur Morgan, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Young Dutch van der Linde, Young Hosea Matthews, well technically it's the same universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26617237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastelbluesky/pseuds/Pastelbluesky
Summary: Ever since his father died, Arthur Morgan has been living on his own, and has been doing a remarkable job of it so far. Every time he's in a fight, he always comes out on top. Arthur always thought that he was just a tough kid, but a run-in with two outlaws make him realize that there may be more to his abilities than he originally thought.Or, a series of one-shots where various members of the Van Der Linde Gang realize they have super-abilities.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Series: The Different Kinds of Human [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936288
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Nobody is As Powerful as We Make Them Out To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, thanks for choosing my fic! I'm not entirely sure where this series will go, but so far I think I'm going to write these little "origin" stories to set the AU up and eventually move onto a larger story where they still have these powers. Thanks for sticking with me!!

For as long as he could remember, Arthur was known for being able to take a punch. Even as a child, when he would scrap with the other kids for pennies to buy food, he was almost always the last one standing, only a few bruises dotting his tan skin where other kids would be covered in black and blue. At first Arthur just assumed he was simply tougher than all the other kids, that eventually there would be someone out there who would knock him on his ass and end his legacy. But that never time never came, and Arthur remained at the top of the ladder, despite how scrawny he was.

Eventually, Arthur realized that he was special when he got into a gun fight at the saloon. He was barely 12 at the time and it wasn’t his fault at all, but the man he had bumped into said that his wallet had been stolen, so of course he blamed it on the rattiest looking kid in the bar. Arthur for sure thought he was going to die that day, the man’s shiny revolver pressed against his dirty forehead. Arthur heard a bang and felt pain thunder throughout his head, like the worst headache imaginable. 

But instead, he was alive. He was on the floor and his head was in more pain than he’d ever been in in his life, but he felt no blood. He gingerly touched his forehead and he could feel a thick, tender bruise forming. Inside the bar was silent as the young boy stood up. One woman in the corner threw up and there were various mutterings heard throughout. The man that had shot Arthur was white as a sheet and his hands were trembling at what he assumed was a child come back from the grave. Thankfully everyone in the bar was too shocked to call the law, so Arthur was able to escape before any of them were able to properly process the situation. He didn’t think to tell his friends, he knew the bastards wouldn’t believe him anyways.

The next time Arthur thought he was going to die was no more than a year later. It was late at night and there was a man sitting in front of the general store. The man looked young, maybe in his mid-20s or so, with a thick black mustache. He almost reminded Arthur of his father, who Arthur hoped was rotting in the fiery pits of hell. The man must’ve noticed Arthur looking at him because he gave the boy a small wave and leaned back in his wooden chair. Arthur turned back around, annoyed that the man had seen him. He had hoped to rob him to buy himself some apples or canned salmon or something.

Unfortunately for Arthur, as he turned around there was another, much larger, clearly drunk man stumbling towards him.

“Hey… there, pretty boy…” the man belched, bringing his hand down hard on Arthur’s shoulder, causing his knees to buckle slightly, “Y-You look like you could… could give me a good time…”

Arthur’s breathing quickened and he backed up, unfortunately against the wall of the Doctor’s building.

“I-I’m sorry sir, I don’t think I c-can. I-I have to run and see my father.” Arthur lied. He knew what would happen if he wasn’t able to get out, he had heard from his friends who lived in the bad side of town that if you kept out late at night you could get hurt, or worse.

“Oh… come on now,” The man slurred, pushing harder on Arthur’s shoulder. He was so close now that Arthur could smell the gin on his breath. He was also close enough to see the man had pulled out a knife and was holding to Arthur’s lithe torso. “Y… You’re such a pretty girl… er… boy, just gimme a chaaaaaance…”

The man pressed the knife harder against Arthur’s stomach, making him wish he hadn’t bet his own knife away in a saloon the other night. The young boy sucked in his stomach and slowly tried sliding his way against the wall to the street.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, I really m-must be going!”

The man became forceful now, slamming Arthur against the wall.

“I’m… I’m done talkin’ now, gimme what… what I goddamn want!” The man slurred, holding the knife against Arthur’s throat, pressing almost hard enough to cut.

Arthur felt tears well up in his eyes as the man started groping his body. He knew he should be stronger than… this, but the man was really strong and he was having a hard time getting out of his grasp.

But then like an angel come down from the heavens, there was another voice behind the man. 

“Hey there friend, what are you… doing… with that boy there?” 

The drunken man stopped his attack and Arthur was able to get a look at the newcomer. It was the man who had been sitting outside the general store, the one with the black mustache. 

The drunk man backed away from Arthur but kept his hand planted firmly on the teen’s shoulder.

“Nuthin. Mind... ‘yur own business.”

The man with the mustache chuckled and took a step closer, raising his hands in mock-surrender.

“Heh, well it doesn’t look like that to me… friend. Why don’t you just take your hand off that boy and find your way on home?”

Arthur was mesmerized by the man’s voice. It was like rich honey, sticky and golden, that pulled you in with every word.

“Well…” the drunken man hiccuped, “Why don’t you g-go on home to your wife and leave us goddamn… alone!”

The man with the mustache chuckled took a step closer. 

“Well you see, I don’t have a wife, friend. But that boy is a very close friend of mine, so why don’t you leave us be, hm?”

The drunk man seemed to have enough of the other man’s advances. “F-Fuck it!” he shouted, and lunged at Arthur with his knife. Arthur could hear the man with the mustache yell in horror, but it was too late. Arthur gasped as he felt the cool iron blade pierce his skin. Even more, he expected it to hurt, but strangely, it didn’t, at least not as much as he’d been expecting it to. One of his friends from the last town he had stayed in had been stabbed once. He had told the story around a garbage fire, and the smell from the burning cans and oil didn’t make the horrific story any better. 

But the knife in Arthur’s stomach felt more like a paper cut than anything, it stung but it wasn’t life threatening. With a rush of adrenaline, Arthur was able to yank the knife out of his body and push the drunk man away. Thankfully, the mustached man was quick to hit the drunk man as hard as he could, knocking him out cold onto the muddy path.

There was a brief pause as both Arthur and the mustached man stood, watching the unconscious drunkard. Arthur realized soon enough that the man with the mustache was staring at the hole in his shirt where the knife had pierced it. There were faint hints of blood around the edges of the tear, but Arthur felt his stomach, and to his surprise, there was no major wound. There was a little bump similar to a scar, but Arthur was just very glad that his insides had not become his outsides.

But then, the man with the mustache smiled. “Hey kid, I know we don’t really know each other, but how about I get you something to eat. As an… extra present for helping save your life?”

Arthur looked the man up and down. With no money in his pockets and no home to go to, he figured he had nothing more to lose. 

“Sure, I… I guess…” Arthur’s teenage voice squeaked.

The mustached man, who introduced himself as Dutch, took Arthur to the general store and let him pick out a few canned goods and some salted venison. Dutch himself picked up a cigar and some canned smoked salmon. 

“I didn’t know they sold canned smoked salmon, sir.” Arthur mused as he looked over Dutch’s shoulder at his purchases. 

The older man chuckled. “They don’t, usually. My… er… partner likes putting it on toasted bread so I buy it whenever I see it bein’ sold. And you don’t need to call me sir, I’m barely ten years older than you as it is.”

Arthur nodded and put his items on the shopkeeper’s counter. “Okay. I thought you said you weren’t married though?”

“Hm?”

“You said you had a partner. Is that your wife?”

“Ah, well yes and no,” Dutch smiled as he threw a couple dollars to the shopkeeper, “Can you keep a secret?”

Arthur nodded enthusiastically.

Dutch bent over slightly to whisper in the young man’s ear. “My partner is more of a partner in crime.”

“Woah!” Arthur gasped as they sat down on a bench outside the general store, “Does that mean you do cool crimes and stuff?!”

“Shh shh, keep it down, son. You may know I’m an outlaw but I don’t want this whole town to know too!”

“Sorry.” Arthur whispered as he felt a little warmth come to his cheeks. 

Dutch and Arthur sat in silence as they ate their snacks. It was late at night so thankfully there wasn’t anyone to deal with hearing their conversation.

“So, son, I just realized I never did learn your name.” Dutch asked.

“Arthur. Arthur Morgan, sir.” Arthur replied between bites of peaches.

Dutch smiled and lit his cigar. “Well, it is certainly nice to meet you, Arthur Morgan Sir.”

Arthur chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll remember next time.”

There was another pause.

“So, back there,” Dutch began as he puffed on his cigar, “I saw that knife go inside you. What… happened with that?”

Arthur shrugged and picked at what was left of his food. “I dunno. I’ve always been kinda tough I guess.”

Dutch laughed so hard he choked. “Son, I’ve seen plenty of tough men in my time, and I’ve seen some pretty tough kids too. Taking a knife to the gut ain’t just ‘tough’, you got something special in you. Maybe like me.”

Arthur perked his head up. “Like you?”

Dutch smoked some more on his cigar and leaned back on the bench. “Well son, I’ve been around the country some, and something I’ve learned is that there are some folk out there who’ve got special… abilities, I suppose you could call it.”

Arthur was listening along intensely. Maybe it was from pure interest or maybe it was because this was the first time in a long time he’d had any sort of kind father figure who didn’t want to kill or extort him.

“I always knew I was a bit special growing up,” Dutch continued, “I was almost always able to get my way just by talkin’ pretty, but my mother just figured I was a cute kid who knew how to charm adults. To some extent she was right, but as I got older, I realized my persuasion was better than everyone else’s. One time, in fact, I was able to talk a man down from shooting up a bank just by talking to him…”

Dutch continued talking for about ten more minutes without taking any breaks. Arthur realized that Dutch was right about having whatever “Charm” ability, as he called it, as time went by without him even realizing it. The only way either of them realized how much time had passed was when a blond man who appeared some years Dutch’s senior announced his presence by coughing very loudly and pointedly.

“Ah, Dutch I see you’ve roped another street urchin into the story about your life, hm?” the man asked very seriously with just a glimmer of amusement in his steel blue eyes, “Tell me young man, has this dreadful outlaw told you about the time he persuaded a man to sleep with him with just a single word? Or how about the time he convinced a bank teller to give him the key to the safe just by telling him a joke?”

“Jesus, Hosea, what’s with the salt all of a sudden? I only left you for a few hours!”

“Exactly, you oaf, you left me without telling me where you were going. I only figured out you were in town because you send out the biggest signal for miles around!”

“Signal?” Arthur asked, staring up at the admittedly handsome newcomer, who he guessed was named Hosea.

Hosea’s face softened some when he looked at Arthur’s own grimy one. “Did Dutch… tell you what we are?”

“Kinda,” Arthur shrugged, “He told me you two were partners, but I don’t want to assume you’re anything more mister, I’ve gotten into too much trouble with that.”

Hosea smiled and rolled his eyes. “Not that, silly, although what you’re implying isn’t exactly false. I was talking about the special abilities he and I have.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! Dutch was tellin’ me about how he can speak really well and make people do things! Is there something you can do too, mister?”

“Well certainly,” Hosea proclaimed, leaning against the wall of the general store, “I’m not sure if there’s really a word for it, but I can tell what people are thinking.”

“Woah, really?” Arthur beamed, bouncing his leg up and down excitedly, “Can you tell what I’m thinking right now?”

Hosea stared into Arthur’s eyes and tilted his head. If Arthur wasn’t so enrapt in the idea of special abilities he would’ve found the staring off putting.

“You’re thinking about how my staring is making you feel a little uncomfortable.” Hosea verified.

Dutch wholeheartedly laughed as he put out his cigar on the side of the bench. “Guess you should change that little habit of yours, old girl.”

Arthur smiled and finished the last few scraps of food he still had. “Can you tell what Dutch is thinking, Mr. Hosea?”

“Always,” Hosea remarked, noticing Dutch winking at him as he started probing his partner’s brain, “Although unfortunately I feel like I’d be committing a crime if I told you exactly what dear old Dutch was thinking about.”

Hosea didn’t seem angry anymore, and Arthur felt good that he had more or less helped fix that. He knew he’d have to say goodbye to the two of them soon, since they probably had some cool outlaw crimes to do and he’d go back to pickpocketing drunk townsfolk for bits of food and sleeping behind the barn when he got kicked out of the saloon.

Dutch and Hosea continued their conversation for some time more, neither of the men concerned with how tired they were going to be the next day. Arthur watched them with a mix of joy and sadness. He wished he could have friends like them, although he figured Hosea was old enough to be his father. 

“Hey kid,” Dutch queried as he stood up to stretch, “You uh… got a place to stay for the night?”

Arthur shook his head.

Dutch looked at Hosea and batted his eyelids very fast and pointedly. Hosea, picking up on what his partner was implying, sighed loudly.

“Fine, fine, the kid can stay with us. But only until we can find a place to drop him off!” Hosea grumbled as he rolled his eyes, “C’mon kid, it’s a bit of a walk back to our hideout.”

Arthur hopped up and followed Dutch and Hosea along the dirt path towards the forest, trying to keep up with the mens’ long strides.

“Oh, and Arthur,” Dutch said, turning to the teen, “If you’re gonna be with us, we’re gonna have to come up with a better story of how we met.”

“Oh yeah, how did you two meet anyways?” Hosea asked.

Dutch rubbed his chin and looked Arthur up and down. “He stole something from me. Some money, I believe.”

Arthur chuckled and nodded attentively; this was certainly a better story than what had really happened. 

As Arthur followed Dutch and Hosea, he started to feel better. Much better than he’d felt in nearly forever, because for the first time in his life, he had found people that were just like him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm really excited to do more on other characters!  
> (also for those wondering why I shoehorned in that smoked salmon thing, it was supposed to be my dumb joke about Hosea being Jewish and liking lox on bagels lol)
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos (comments more so) are very appreciated!!!


End file.
